So, you’re back again for more. I can’t say I understand you but — no, you know what? No respect either.

This morning, while talking about that piece about misery, someone said one of those forbidden phrases that immediately sets off alarms in my head:

“Don’t take things personally.”

Brrrr-brrrr. Asshole alert.

I don’t know a single nice person who uses that phrase.

So, let’s do a quick — or not — dive into what exactly is happening when someone uses it, what it means, and what you should answer when you’re its target.

(The answer is “fuck you”, but “blow me” is also acceptable.)

There are two versions of this phrase, and they rarely coexist.

One is the kind of advice a friend gives to a friend, or a parent gives to a child, when dealing with a known asshole.

The other is an excuse used by assholes everywhere.

We’ll be focusing on the second one, while trying to take down a lie that empathetic people use to shield mean people in the process:

No, hurt people don’t hurt people.

Again, read the post, mate.

Fuck you.

That’s one rule you should learn and apply every day, right beside “when someone tries to get out of saying something awful by saying, ‘I’m just joking,’ make them explain the joke and watch the concept of humor die”:

Don’t make excuses for those who don’t make excuses for themselves.

It’s that easy.

We’re all hurt.

We’re all small little beings hurtling at a combined speed of a million miles an hour on a marble wrongly called Earth, when it should have been called Sea, or Water, and we’re all alone.

Alone in a darkness that never ends.

Every day, some go away forever, and there’s war, and disease, and evil everywhere, and nobody knows why, because we’re nice individuals, each one of us.

We’re all hurt.

So, are we all assholes? Well, kinda.

When someone says “don’t take things personally,” what they want to say, at least most of the time, is:

“I lack basic self-control and manners, so please forget the fact that I don’t consider you important enough to even try to behave myself.”

That’s it, that’s the secret.

“Don’t take things personally” is a wonderful phrase when applied to yourself, and only to yourself.

“I’m chill and don’t take things personally easily” is a personality trait. It speaks about your self-esteem and patience.

And everyone should watch that “easily,” because chill people tend to turn nuclear when they stop being chill, right?

Well, this is beyond the scope of this.

Because sometimes “don’t take things personally” is not advice.

Sometimes it is the verbal equivalent of marrying the red flag and then asking why the flag is red.

So, to really understand this, we should expand on it.

Imagine one of those ISIS brides: Western girls who ran away to fulfill their lifelong dream of — checks notes — marrying a bloodthirsty jihadi, having slaves, becoming one of several wives, and praying for the fall of Western civilization.

To each their own, I guess?

This trend could explain some of the most exotic choices I’ve seen women make in the past.

Imagine the moment when they return to their countries, all smiles, trauma, and “oh yes, the jihad — well, I was going through some stuff.”

What would happen if society as a whole decided not to take things personally with people who had been party to crimes straight out of a 19th-century law book?

Nope.

Part of that social contract — full of subtext and shaped by public opinion — is that if you want to be part of society, you pay taxes, follow the rules, and accept responsibility for everything you say, type, or do.

Tyson said it better:

Social media made y'all way too comfortable with disrespecting people and not getting punched in the face for it." -Mike Tyson

replace social media with money, authority, a job, just the expectation of not being punched in the face even when you deserve it. And i get it, i really do, physical violence is never the answer but sometimes i could make a really good follow up question? right?

Something I understood young, but wish I had understood younger, is that communication is rarely direct, rarely between peers, and rarely perfectly clear.

If you look at society and see a lot of great apes all playing Pictionary, the picture becomes clearer, and we finally find some meaning.

Take a simple phrase:

“I wish peace and prosperity for everyone.”

Well, not so simple, but innocent and well-meaning, right?

Let’s break it down:

“I wish” implies that you would exert control over others if you could.

Houston: we have violence.

Yeeeeee-haw!

“Peace and prosperity” could mean a billion — really, eight — things.

If you could grant everyone’s wishes in an instant, would there be anything left?

Anyone?

You know that, for a good chunk of humanity, “peace and prosperity” involves genocide and ecocide on an appalling scale.

Where should we stop?

When we all have private jets, but before we all have spaceships, right?

We’ll talk about this later: perceived prosperity, and when enough is enough.

These things are writing themselves, really.

And we won’t dwell on this one, but does “everyone” include everyone for you, dear reader?

Or is there someone, or some group, you would keep from general prosperity?

This is an awful question.

A human one.

And this is analyzing the meaning from one point of view.

Take another person, and they may feel you want to humiliate them and remove their sense of agency because they want to ensure their own peace and prosperity.

Another person may be offended because this sounds clearly like communism, and that’s always bad.

Another one may feel that you’re not doing enough.

Prosperity is good, but what about happiness?

Add a few layers, and you discover that while people can sometimes agree on what “bad” means — not very frequently, but still — “good” is an ethereal and volatile idea.

Every single thing you have said in your life, these lines included, is subject to the same limitation.

Everyone has a few color filters in their brain that they see everything through, and you just can’t know what they are.

It’s like that movie Inside Out, but in this case the characters are named “Fear of Abandonment,” “Loneliness,” “Dissatisfaction,” “Disappointment,” and “Suicidal Intent.”

And hey, it’s early on a Friday.

Everyone will listen to your speech from their own point of view.

Here, meaning: from their own accumulation of trauma, pain, and experiences — even some positive ones — and only then will they listen to your words.

See the problem?

This is the greatest issue nobody talks about, the great disruptor of societal happiness:

People will listen to you opening your heart, add their own prejudice, and judge you on that.

And, curiously, one way of avoiding this effect is being extremely blunt.

It won’t work for every phrase, and it depends on what you’re trying to transmit, but:

“Because you’re so stupid that really, we should rename the concept after you” is a better, more direct, probably more understandable answer than:

“That was not what I was trying to say. You know what? I’ll do it.”

And:

“Because I love you so much that I feel like, for you, I’m capable of murder” is definitely a better alternative than:

“Because I wanted to make you smile.”

And, curiously, when done perfectly, and with a perfect understanding of the target, sarcasm is a great way of transmitting messages.

And this is very important to understand here:

Assholes treat people badly because they use language like artillery.

They expect their mistreatment of everyone to land on insecurities and amplify internally.

Saying something good about someone?

That takes finesse.

Saying some mean crap that will make ten people feel horrible?

That’s easy.

And because of the amplification, it feels like better communication.

But it isn’t.

I think one of the greatest killers of talent in today’s world is abuse and mistreatment.

As a society, we’re using Pavlov’s findings to teach one generation after another not to do their best.

Think about that.

The cycle of abuse is a self-defeating entity, and it should end.

Soon.

But this is also very important when dealing with abusive people: successful or not, they tend to judge everyone against themselves.

The need to humiliate fellow humans comes from only one place, and it is one of deep insecurity and perceived — or real — lack.

So, next time someone is being really mean to you, give them this beautiful line:

“I’m sorry you think so badly about yourself.”

See how it turns into a physical confrontation in seconds.

I think people expect me to invite everyone to be mean and do whatever they want just because I’m a nihilist and nothing has objective value.

This is the litmus test for a good person, in my not-so-humble opinion:

Nothing really matters.

We’re all alone in the dark, and we’re terrified.

Some turn that fear into love, and some turn it into hate, but the reality is this:

We’re all alone together.

You can do evil, and society’s ability to respond is mediocre at best.

You murder?

You spend a few years in jail. A lot of years, if you do a lot of murder.

But there is no proportionality to crime and violence.

There is no equivalence.

You do something awful and get three mediocre meals a day and rent-free living for twenty-five years.

For this, the idea of hell is worthless.

We just don’t know.

Can’t know.

For this, it doesn’t matter.

So, if it’s not fear of jail, or hell, or being shunned by the rest of your species, what inspires you to be good to others?

To strive to be the best possible version of yourself?

If you have no answer to that and you still behave, congratulations.

Nietzsche wants to have a word.

Because in the end, that’s all there is.

That’s it:

You’re good because you reject your broken human nature and decide to be good.

There is no prize for the good and no punishment for the evil.

There is only power.

Power over yourself and over others.

How you perceive it.

How you use it.

Power to help, to build, and to destroy.

If the only thing keeping you at bay is fear of punishment or hell, you’re not good.

You’re tame.

If there’s something else for you, well, let’s talk.

I’ll find some reason not to like you soon enough.

But I enjoy — really enjoy — meeting and befriending people who seem almost ashamed of doing good things.

People who do them in the dark.

Backhanded.

With a discretion that gets close to revulsion.

And people who are not abusive.

These are all coming out so…

So pink and beautiful.

I think I need to see a psychologist or something. It’s disgusting.

Whatever you’re going to do, remember: it doesn’t matter, but it might.

Aim for the stars.

And if you’re building a nuke, be like Edward Teller: build the greatest, meanest, most dangerous machine the world has ever seen.

Don’t think about consequences, or silly concepts like restraint.

Just do your absolute best and let the mortals tremble in fear.

Peace out.

Get a job.